Snapped
by wild-eyed kid
Summary: Darry does something that he hasn't done in a long time - with some serious consequences. PLEASE R & R. This is my first story!
1. Chapter 1

Hello. My name is Nikki. Or wild-eyed kid. This is my first ever fanfiction. THANK YOU TO **Sydney the Indie Rokker** for beta-reading! There were probably a lot of grammar mistakes!

xxx

I hastily walked up the steps to my house. It was late - much too late for Darry's liking. I know that you're probably wondering _"Why would you stay out too late again? Don't you remember what happened last time you stayed out too late?"_ But, in case you haven't noticed, I'm a little scatterbrained.

I knew that as soon as I walked through the door, I'd never hear the end of Darry's wrath.

Okay, let me take that back. Darry and I really _had _been doing better. We promised Sodapop that we'd stop fighting. And we pretty much had. Darry became more lenient and I guess I became overall easier to take care of. Not that never-uses-his-head kid Darry always described me as.

As soon as I walked in the door, it happened, just as I predicted. Darry's screams. He was mad. And I couldn't blame him. I was out too late and Darry's earned the right to be worried about me. I honestly didn't mean to stay out this late, though. I was with Curly at a party miles away. We were celebrating the fact that he got out of the reformatory. Curly got too drunk at the party to drive me back home. I didn't want to drive back home with a drunk driver, so I walked. So, in all reality, I was being responsible.

"Ponyboy, where have you been?" Darry shrieked.

"Darry," I said calmly, already ready to defend myself. "I was at that party with Curly."

Soda walked in, probably shocked to see us "fighting." But we weren't really fighting. Not yet, anyway.

"I thought I told you you couldn't go to that party. It's on the wrong side of town!"

Shit. I forgot Darry told me that.

"Oh my God, Dar," I said, being sincere. "I totally forgot you said that. Honest. Golly, I'm so sorry."

Darry seemed to ignore the fact that I had tried to make amends with him before this got out of hand and went on yelling. "Why are you out so late, Ponyboy? It's 1 AM! I thought you were at Two-Bit's! Oh, and you "forgot"? Golly, Ponyboy! You haven't changed a bit! Your head's always up your ass!"

My eyes started to blur slightly then. I willed the tears away. "Darry…" Soda warned.

Darry ignored him and went on. "What if you'd have gotten hurt?"

I had a strange sensation of déjà vu right then. Maybe Darry and I haven't gotten any better with the fighting. "No, Darry! I didn't get hurt! Maybe you should stop worrying so much about me! I said I'm sorry! Get off my back _please_! I mean god damn!"

And then, for the second time that year, Darry hit me. Much harder than the first time.

I spun around,but before I hit the ground, my foot caught on to the side of the couch. My body hit the floor with full force, but there was a sickening crack. It was deafening.

It came from my foot. At that moment in time there was so much pain I thought my head would explode. Colors were blurring and I couldn't focus on anything. My foot hurt something fierce, and it was radiating all throughout my body.

My foot got stuck on the leg of the couch, and it was bent at an awkward angle. I couldn't see it, but it hurt like a son of a gun.

All I could do was lay there. No tears were coming out yet because I was too shocked by the amount of pain. Nothing was happening but everything seemed so chaotic and crazy.

My eyes were open wide, staring at nothing. I knew my mouth was moving but no sound was coming out. I tried to move, but couldn't. I tried desperately, but couldn't. I was in the worst pain I had ever been in my life.

I tried to move my leg out from under the couch and screamed. It just hurt so much. My eyes flickered Darry and Soda (mostly Soda) for support. Soda kneeled down in front of my face.

"Pony?" Sodapop asked quietly.

"I-It hurts, Soda," I somehow managed. My voice sounded strained and weak.

"What hurts?"

I didn't answer him. My foot was throbbing and I couldn't take it. "Ow…" I moaned. It hurt like hell.

They both tried to take my arms and pull me out from under the couch. The slightest movement, however, made my foot throb. I screamed in agony. Darry eventually had to lift the couch off of my leg. They lifted me up and set me on the couch.

"Oh, God, it hurts…" My eyes flitted to Darry, who looked desperate and sad.

I watched as Soda gingerly rolled up my pants leg. He went wide-eyed. He motioned Darry to come over and take a look.

"Oh, Christ," Sodapop said. "It's definitely broken,"

That's when I finally looked at my foot. And let me tell you - it was the ugliest thing I think I've ever seen. It was somehow already purple and _there was a bone snapped out of it_! It just hurt so much! I felt like I was going to throw up.

"Oh my God, Ponyboy. I am so sorry…" Darry said to me.

I would have said that it's allright but I was only partially listening to him. My surroundings started to blur and the excrutiating pain radiating in my leg seemed to be spreading through my veins like a wildfire.

Then, Soda snapped. I knew he didn't mean what he was saying. "Darry! Why and the hell would you do that _again_? He said he was sorry!" I wanted to tell Soda to not be so hard on Darry because I knew he felt bad enough, but I didn't. But I was also thankful that Sodapop was sticking up for me.

Soda got up and accidentally bumped in to my foot. It was soft but it caused me to whimper. There was a sudden white hot flash of pain and I yelped. "Ow!" I couldn't help it. My surroundings were starting to blur and I was struggling in and out consciousness. Tears were starting to brim my eyes.

"…hospital?"

"Let's go!" Darry said. I put my arms around both of their shoulders, holding my injured leg up.

We all got in to the truck. My mind was racing.

Darry was driving and Soda and I were in the back. "Set your leg on mine, Pone." Sodapop commanded as he patted on his leg. I struggled but did as I was told without argument.

"Is…" I swallowed. "Is it supposed to hurt this much?"

"I-I don't know," Soda answered. "Are you all right?"

I nodded weakly and whispered, only to where Sodapop could hear, "He hit me again… How come he never hits you?" Despair wracked my body as I thought that Darry didn't like me again. Jesus. Talk about déjà vu.

Soda's not exactly the golden child. He's come home late before. He's even gone to _jail _before. So, how come every time I mess up, I get hit?

Then I whispered to myself, "I was right. He does hate me." I was slightly woozy. Every second felt like an hour. Every hour felt like a million days.

I know I was sounding melodramatic, but I _was _in a lot of pain. My bone snapped in half for Christ's sake.

We sped down the road and eventually got in to the hospital parking lot.

_What a long night. _

xxx

Oh, and just so everyone knows, YES, I have broken my foot before. I am writing on experience.

-yolo-


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys. New chapter. Did you forget about this story? I did. Hey, it's only almost a year late. Oh, well. Quicker updates will now come. Thank you **iamafanoftoomanythingstoname **for motivating me again. Also, **atyler4474 **wrote a chapter sequel to the first chapter of "Snapped". If you're interested, check it out.

xxx

I got put into a wheelchair almost the second I walked (okay, well, _limped_) into the hospital. There was a wait. A really, _really_ long wait before I could see a doctor. Some people with the flu or something stupid like that were ahead of us.

Sodapop grabbed my hand and squeezed real tight. And while in most times that probably would have hurt me, it sort of took away the pain in the rest of my body.

I could see that Darry was oftentimes staring at me while we sat in the waiting room, but I wouldn't let him catch my eye. I was so mad at him I couldn't even see straight. Or maybe I couldn't see straight because of the bone snapped out of my leg. Either one.

I was just sitting there miserably with my eyes closed and teeth clenched. _Happy thoughts_. I had to keep thinking happy thoughts to get my mind off what happened.

To be honest, I was more upset that Darry hit me than that I was injured. I thought we were on better terms.

A nurse finally called my name and Sodapop pushed my wheelchair from behind me.

Darry had to pick me up out of my wheelchair so I could be put on the table. Even if I didn't want him touching me, I had to give him props - he was surprisingly gentle. He's always rough without meaning to be.

After a couple of minutes of sitting in uncomfortable silence, I thought I was going to start ripping my hair out. If my foot and leg wouldn't stop hurting soon I didn't know what I'd do.

When the doctor walked in, he sucked in a breath, and I nearly groaned. It was never a good sign to take the doctor by surprise. He was supposed to have seen it all. A broken bone shouldn't be surprising.

"Ooh," he muttered, rolling my blue jeans leg up. "Bad break. Bad, bad break." He didn't seem to be talking to anyone in particular.

"Really?" I managed to gasp. "What do you mean? Is it going to be okay?"

Dr. Bradley looked pained. "I'm sorry, Ponyboy, but we're going to have to amputate."

"_WHAT?!_" Millions of panicking thoughts seemed to tumble out of my brain in disarray. Oh my God, I'd never walk again. I could never run track again. I'd be a useless cripple.

The doctor cupped my face in his hand. "Hey, relax, Ponyboy. I was joking."

This doctor was casual and even though he almost caused me to have a panic attack I found myself liking him. He lit a cigarette and started smoking.

I looked over at my brothers. Darry seemed pissed off at Dr. Bradley. I heard Sodapop whisper, "Jesus. What does amputate mean? Seemed to freak him out a whole bunch."

I took deep breaths. At least this heart-stopping scare distracted me temporarily from the overwhelming pain. When was it ever going to end?

I started taking deep breaths because the pain was slowly and agonizingly killing me.

"You're going to have to get prepped for surgery."

"Surgery?" I sat up, biting my lip to control how my foot got jarred. "This is a joke too, right? Can't I just get a cast and go?"

"Unfortunately, it is not a joke this time. You broke your ankle, and the splintering is so bad off we have to realign your foot and put metal rods in it."

I buried my palms in my eyes.

I peeked at Sodapop through my fingers. He was staring at the disgusting bone that was jutting out of my ankle. It was disgusting. The most nauseating thing you could ever see. He was a sickly green color.

I didn't even want to look at Darry. I was mad at him. If it weren't for him, I'd be fine.

"How did this even happen in the first place?"

Sodapop's neck turned quicker than I ever thought possible to face Darry. I was afraid he was going to tell the doctor the truth.

Darry choked out, "He…he… I—"

I cut him off before he could give this away. Because if the state found out he hit me again, I'd be taken away for sure. And it killed me to see my brother flounder uselessly like that.

"I was"- I hissed in a wince of pain -"I was with my friends and we were joking around. I-I…we was climbing on a fence and I fell off. My foot twisted on a crack in the sidewalk," I supplied easily.

I learned a long time ago that the more elaborate the details, the more realistic the lie seems. Making up details seems to make the story more real.

Darry seemed weary of my lying abilities, but this weariness was washed away by tangible relief of the fact that the doctor seemed to believe me.

Dr. Bradley smiled softly. "Boys will be boys," he said. "My son broke his arm a few months ago while playing with some friends."

"Are we gonna get this surgery over with? It hurts so bad, I can't even think straight." I can't believe I wanted a surgery. Surgery usually scares me something awful. But anything to get rid of this horrid feeling I was willing to try.

"I'm sorry, Pone," Soda said. He understood me. He tore a ligament in a rodeo once. And even though that ain't as bad as a broken bone, it's still got to hurt a whole lot. "It'll be okay."

Darry patted me on the shoulder and I resisted the urge to scream at him. This was all his fault.

The nurse gave me a gown to change in to…and it was very awkward getting my pants off with a broken ankle. But I did it. Somehow.

The same nurse asked Darry about my social security number and he rattled off some numbers - numbers I'm sure he'd had memorized since my parents died. He also had to sign some forms, but I didn't really pay attention to that. It just didn't seem important to me.

She took my blood pressure and eventually gave me some stuff to make me sleep.

I was afraid I was going to wake up in the middle of my surgery. The nurse told me not to worry about it and patted me on the head. She told me to start counting back from 100.

I didn't really understand why she wanted me to do that, but I did.

Or at least, I tried to.

My head was already starting to get fuzzy.

"100...ninety-nine…ninety-eight…ninety-seven…ninet y-six…ninety-five…ninety-four…" I closed my eyes and supressed a yawn. "Ninety-three…ninety-two…ninety-one…"

I was out.

xxx

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